Page 42 of LA Reign

Security cameras recorded Alana leaving the hotel and getting into a cab. The footage was too grainy to make out a plate, but I’ve got someone calling all the cab companies who work the area. It’s like she’s disappeared off the face of the fucking planet.

I have men out looking for her every place I think she might be. Every park we’ve ever strolled, every restaurant we’ve ever eaten at, every store she’s ever visited. Though the image of Alana indulging in retail therapy when she’s upset is ludicrous, I’m running out of ideas. Jax sits watching me as I go quietly insane, the concern clear on his face. I snap to attention when my cell phone rings. It’s not her, but it’s the next best thing.

It’s Lucia. Thank fuck! She has to know something.

“Hey, Alejandro,” she says breezily. “I was taking a nap, and I left my cell on silent. Just saw you’d been calling, sorry. Is everything okay?” No, it most definitely is not. I take a deep breath before I speak. No point freaking the kid out.

“Have you seen Alana?” I ask.

“No. But she sent me a text a couple hours ago.”

“What did it say?”

“Hang on. I didn’t read it. Nap time is sacred. Let me check.”

There’s an agonizing few seconds of silence as she checks her phone.

“Huh. I’ll read it out to you. It says: Hey sweetie. I’m going away for a couple days. Alejandro and Magda will look after you. Take care of yourself and that baby. I’ll call you soon.”

“That’s all?” I snap.

“Yes. What’s going on, Alejandro? Where is she? Why has she gone away? What did you do?”

Lucia sounds upset but also fierce, and even under the circumstances I almost smile. They’re both so protective of each other.

“She got some bad news this morning. That’s all, Lucia. She just needs some space.”

Apparently. At least I know she’s alive now, but it still doesn’t calm me down completely.

“Yeah? From you, I’m guessing. Hasn’t she told you where she’s gone?” Her tone is snarky. My anger rides just beneath the surface, but I bite it back. None of this is her fault.

“Look, Lucia. She’s pissed at me. She’s pissed at everything. But I’ll find her. It’ll all be okay.”

“And how’s that going? Finding her? I’m surprised you haven’t got some kind of microchip implanted in her.”

Fuck. Why didn’t I think of that? Jax used his tech skills to trace her phone, but she’s not stupid. He said she sent a text from nearby, presumably the one to Lucia, and then switched it off. No pings since. She’s not used any of the credit cards we share either.

“I will find her,” I mutter, a promise as much to myself as to Lucia.

A pause, the sound of the fridge door opening, glass clinking. Lucia pouring some milk at a guess. It’s all so normal. The sounds of my home, the place that only truly became a home when Alana arrived in my life. The place that would be an empty soulless shell without her. Just like me.

“Well, if you want my opinion, there’s only one place she would have gone. Just for a few days.”

“I do want your opinion, Lucia. Where?”

She sighs dramatically. “Back to New York!” She doesn’t actually say dumbass, but I hear it anyway. Along with the silent “obviously.”

Fuck. The minute she says it, I know she’s right. Of course. It was Alana’s home before she met me, and even though her life back east was complicated, it would still offer her some comfort. It would still be away from me and the pain she’s in right now.

“Yeah. Thanks. Listen, tell me if you hear from her again, okay?”

“I will. And Alejandro?” she says, sounding like a child again instead of a snarky teenager.

“What?”

“Please bring her home soon.”

There’s a note of desperation in her voice that moves me. I know exactly how she feels.